All Sorts of Jungles
by thegingeRNightowl
Summary: We all know the story of Tarzan. But, do you know the story of Amelia Clayton, his older sister? Follow me as I explore this new character through the many trials and tribulations that accompany an orphan in Victorian England as she grows into herself and her new role. Amelia will travel the world in search of love, family, and a sense of belonging. R/R appreciated! Rated T for now
1. Before the Beginning

**Disclaimer-** I do not own Tarzan or any of the original characters. However, the storyline and any additional characters are my intellectual property. Please don't take them from me!

 **Author's Note-** This is my first fanfiction so please be kind. I would appreciate any kind of review and constructive criticism.

Amelia's red curls lay flat and limp against the pillows in Greystoke Manor. Her green eyes dim and blurry with exhaustion. She had been fighting this fever for four days now and Lady Alice Clayton, her mother, had not left her bedchamber throughout the entire sickness. Alice brushed the sweat off of her young daughter's brow. Her daughter was a shadow of the bright, playful, energetic young girl who only last week had accidentally pulled down the drapes in the great room in an attempt to swing from the second floor staircase landing down to the first floor landing. That endeavor ended in a furious housekeeper seeking out Lady Alice to berate her on the fact that a young lady of breeding ought not to act like simple hooligan. Lady Alice agreed, but reminded the housekeeper that this young lady of breeding was only four years old and ought to be able to act like it sometimes. That effectively shut her up. It was two days later that Amelia had fallen ill.

The door clicked behind her and a hand fell on her shoulder. Her husband, Lord John Clayton, Earl of Greystoke. She put a hand over his. "I can't go, John. I can't leave her."

John sat down next to his wife. "Alice, I know," he said, "I never asked you to come with me."

Alice turned and glared at him, "Of course I do. I'm your wife. Where you go, I go. I am your helpmate, your supporter when everything in life goes wrong. Of course I have to go to India with you. I just…I don't know how I am supposed to leave her like this."

John pulled his wife into his lap and held her close, placing a small kiss on her neck. "How did I ever get so lucky to find a woman such as you?" He asked the woman in his arms.

Alice smiled and nestled into his arms. "You didn't, my love. I found you and then I refused to let you look at another woman other than me. I was very determined."

John chuckled and then said, "I have contacted your father. He and your mother will be here in the morning. We'll leave on Thursday for India. She will have family near while we are gone. She's strong, Alice. She'll get through this. After all, if you could make me go through an entire Season without spending more than ten minutes with another woman, than surely your daughter can look Death in the eyes and laugh as she skips back to us."

Alice sniffled and sat back up to wipe Amelia's brow with a cold rag. It was chore for the maids and Amelia's nurse, Emmaline, but Alice had insisted that she should be the one to sit with her daughter.

"That's good," Alice said, "She needs family nearby." Alice hesitated a moment before looking at her husband and asking, "Does this make me a bad mother?"

Shocked, John grabbed his wife's hands and set the rag back in the bowl.

"Absolutely not." He said. "You are an amazing mother, Alice. Amelia getting sick is not your fault."

Alice sighed in exasperation and shook off John's hands. She stood up and walked a couple of steps toward the window. Her arms came up around herself and she turned toward her husband, hugging herself.

"No. Not that. I know I couldn't have done anything to prevent Melly's sickness. What I am asking is if leaving her and going with you to India makes me a bad mother." Alice explained.

John sighed and leaned forward, setting his forehead in his hands, elbows on his knees.

"We can wait, Alice. We don't have to leave this week, but even when she gets better, she cannot come with us. It is too dangerous. The country is in an uproar. I wouldn't even risk you if you weren't so damned stubborn." He said, standing up and walking over to stand behind her. He put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"It does not make you a bad mother, Alice. It makes you a better one." He said simply. "We will wait until she is well again and then we will leave to take care of our business in India."

Alice leaned back into him, "Thank you, John, for understanding." She whispered.


	2. Raw Nerves

**Disclaimer- As per usual, I do not own Tarzan or anything having to do with that plot, all OCs and original plot are mine. I don't have much I can call mine so please don't take them.**

 **Authors Note- I am getting ready to start up a new semester of college, so I may not be updating regularly, but I will try my best. As always, I appreciate you if you are reading this and I appreciate you if you have favorited this, but I would REALLY appreciate some reviews! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. :)**

 _14 years later_

Amelia Aisling Clayton sat in front of her dressing table staring at herself in the mirror. Idly, she played with the cameo at her neck. Amelia sat there, thinking to herself that it was funny how she hadn't been nearly this nervous upon being presented at court and meeting the Queen. With that, though, there was no dancing, and that was what Amelia feared the most. Not the dancing precisely, but rather the fact that her grandfather, Lord Archibald Delaney, Earl of Dunstin, in an effort to give her a "proper coming out" had invited over a hundred people to this ball. One hundred people who would see her dance and see that she, in fact, could not.

It was for this precise reason that Amelia was still in her room instead of downstairs waiting for the arrival of her first guests. She was, after all, the hostess of this party. She wasn't that worried about it though as it would not be her first hosting and the butler would come and get her when it was time, as he has always done. Since her grandmother's passing two years ago, Amelia had taken on the role of lady of the house, slightly begrudgingly, but effectively nonetheless. This was one party, though, that she dearly wished she did not have to host. She rubbed her cameo again and thought of her parents, lost at sea so many years ago. She remembered the morning they left with vivid detail.

She had just recovered from an illness that had bedridden her for days. Her mother had spent the previous two nights in Amelia's bed, hardly believing that she had survived. They had all been sitting down to breakfast. Her grandparents had arrived the night before and were in a huddle talking to her parents. Amelia had wondered what they were discussing at the time and why they weren't telling her. She soon found out. She had cried when her momma had told her that she and papa would be leaving for a little bit. Amelia had not wanted them to go. She begged to be taken with them, but her papa had told her that she was still too weak. She had argued in the way that only a four year old could, with tears and stomping and begging. None of this swayed her papa though, as she knew it wouldn't. Her papa was a gentle man, and kind, but firm. When he made a decision, that decision was kept. He had made up his mind.

Amelia remembered how he had knelt down and hugged her, wiped her nose, and told her that when she was lonely or scared, to just look to the stars or the moon or the sun and know that wherever he and momma were, they were thinking of her. She remembered sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve. Papa had chastised her and told her that ladies didn't wipe their noses on their sleeves, ladies wiped their noses on a gentleman's handkerchief, and he had handed her his. She blew her nose and hugged him again. Momma had bent down and hugged and kissed her. Then, she reached behind her neck, untied her cameo necklace and tied it around little Melly's neck. That cameo had not left her neck since that day, despite her grandmother telling her that it was too grown up for her at the time and for years afterward. Twelve months later, they received word that the ship her parents had been on had gone down somewhere off the coast of Africa, near Boma. There had been no survivors.

Amelia looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head in an effort to make the memories go away, her red curls threatening to come loose from the fashionable coiffure her maid had put her hair up in. She detested dwelling on those harsh memories and preferred to look ever forward towards the future. Today, however, it was difficult. All of this would have been so much easier with her mother helping her. Her mother would know precisely what to say in order to alleviate her fears and soothe her nerve. There were so many accomplished ladies already out this season. Ladies who could sing and dance, play every instrument they touched, and their needle works, watercolors, and drawings often rivaled the art of Michelangelo himself. It wasn't as though she wasn't accomplished, Amelia reminded herself. She was just accomplished in other ways.

She could ride like she was born in the saddle. She played the piano so passionately that no one ever complained about her lack of technique. Her vocal talents lay more geared towards linguistics than singing. The one time she had tried needlework, she had pricked all of her fingers multiple times, however she could stitch up a tear in a shirt or breeches and make the mend barely noticeable. She was awful at water colors or drawing, but loved to write, though she didn't fancy herself very good at that either. In her head, she knew these were all achievements, but she knew what the young debutantes mothers could be like. They would drag her through the coals in the most subtle way possible. They would drive her into a corner that she would not be able to get out of without humiliating herself. All to make sure their daughters made a better match than she. Her stomach did a flip and she closed her eyes, wishing for nothing more than her mother and a fortifying cup of tea.

A knock came from her door and she turned in her seat to see who it was. Her maid, Emmaline, came in with a tray of tea. Well, that was half a wish. Amelia supposed it was the best she would get. She smiled at her godsend.

"Evening, Lady Amelia," Emmaline greeted her, "I thought I'd come and check on you. Make sure you're doing alright and I brought some tea to settle any nerves that might be fluttering around in that stomach of yours," She ended, rather jovially.

Amelia smiled, Emmaline always knew what she needed and when. It came from years of working as her nurse before becoming her lady's maid.

"Thank you, Emmaline, I was just wishing for a cup of tea, but I wasn't quite brave enough yet to descend into the bowels of the kitchen to fetch it myself. I believe Cook would have turned me right over to my Grandpapa if she had seen me invading her territory." Amelia said with a smile on her face. Although, in all honesty, Cook probably would have turned her in.

"Aye, probably, Lady Mel." Emmaline agreed, using her pet name. Amelia smiled, Emmaline and her mother had been two of a very small group of people who call her Mel or Melly. Her Grandmother had detested it, saying nicknames were an abomination.

Another knock on the door interrupted their chat and Amelia braced herself as the butler, Wilson, walked in.

"Excuse me, my lady, but your grandfather is requesting your presence downstairs. The guests are beginning to arrive." He said smartly.

Amelia took one last sip of tea, shared a look with Emmaline, and followed Wilson downstairs to meet her guests.

 **And that concludes this chapter of** ** _All Sorts of Jungles_** **. Hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, shoot me a review. I'd love to hear from you. Until next time! :)**


	3. Twirling Chameleon

**Author's Note- I am so sorry you guys. I promise I have not forgotten about you and I have not forgotten about Amelia. I have been drowning under mountains of schoolwork and projects. For anyone interested, nursing school is really hard and there are times I'm not sure it's worth it, but then I go to my clinicals and remember that it, in fact, is. A quick note on the chapter itself. While reading it back to myself there were parts that came off very romance novely. I promise. That is not what this story is. Don't get me wrong, there is romance, but there is so much more than that. So please don't judge based on a single mushy chapter. Anyways. Onto Reviews!**

 **SamanthaJane13- I promise, I will continue this story, it's just gonna be slow on updates. Sorry :(**

 **KlausIsMySoulMate-Thank you so much! I'm really glad you're enjoying my crazy ramblings. :)**

 **Coolie Is Cooagoree Oakly Lad-First off, that is quite a pen name. Secondly, the answer to your question is OC. We won't be seeing any familiar faces for a few chapters. Hope that doesn't disappoint you.**

 **Now that that is out of the way, on with the show!**

As Amelia followed behind Wilson, her skirts swirling around her ankles, she worked on mentally preparing herself for the evening. Not just for the piranha-like mommas, not just for their foul mouthed daughters, but rather for her Grandpapa. He was determined to have her married off within the Season. She, on the other hand, was against that state of mind 100%. Oh, Amelia knew that one day she would get married. One day, she would have children. That day was far in her future as far as she was concerned. Before that happened she wanted to do things that would make even the most fallen rogue widen his eyes in shock. She wanted to travel, to find companionship, and to find love. Love like her parents had. Her Grandpapa didn't understand that. He and Grandmama's marriage had been an arranged one. One put together for power and security. From it a calm friendship and comradery had blossomed, but never love. That was what she wanted and she would let no man, woman, or beast keep her from it.

She met her grandfather at the entry to the ballroom, where they would meet their guests. Amelia glanced around, the quartet was warming up in the corner along with the pianist, all of the candles were lit and the chandelier glistened. Everything was where it should be.

"Grandpapa," she greeted him with a kiss to the cheek.

"Amelia, you look beautiful." He stated.

She stepped back and twirled so he could fully admire the silver-blue gown. It was of the latest style from France. The bodice was low and made of the same ice blue taffeta as the underlay. From the bottom of the bodice flowed a silver chiffon overlay. The train was long enough that she had to be careful not to step on it as she finished her twirl. Her sleeves were capped and NOT puffy, per her request. She could not stand the latest fashion of the puffy sleeves. Her white gloves came up past her elbows, covering what would have been deemed inappropriate to show as an unwed young woman. All in all, she was pleased with the gown.

Her Granpapa smiled as she finished her twirl and she knew that he was pleased. Good. That would be one less obstacle to overcome tonight.

"Are you ready for this, my dear?" he questioned.

Amelia smiled wryly up at him. "Ready or not, here they come" she said as the first coach pulled up. She pasted a demure smile on her face and squared her shoulders; prepared to meet the masses.

The line seemed to never end. Amelia had greeted so many people that she was sure if she curtsied one more time she would topple over. It did eventually end and Amelia did what she had learned to do; she blended in. It may have been her party, but that didn't mean she had to be the center of attention. She circled the outskirts of the ballroom slowly, weaving her way around anxious mamas, nervous debutants, and rogues on the hunt. She grinned at that. Her grandfather had final say on the guest list of every party they threw and without fail he always ended up inviting some rapscallion that should never have been allowed within a hundred feet of a ball in which debutants were attending. Of course, any rogue worth his salt knew better than to go after a green girl. That was how one ended up at the altar. Known to the more dramatic as 'the fate worse than death'.

As Amelia was twirling her way, unseen and unnoticed, around the ballroom, her grandfather was watching her. He sighed, knowing that he was the only one who was seeing her. Amelia was like her mother in that way, she wouldn't be seen by anybody until she wanted to be seen. His little Melly was different than most young girls of the time. He knew just as his daughter had known it. Amelia had a spirit in her that wasn't in most girls her age and, despite what she thought, he did see it. How could he not? It came off of her like a shining star, blinding anyone who bothered to look at her deeper than just skin level.

Lord Keeran walked by and he was obliged to mutter a platitude on the upcoming birth of his child. Not that he really cared. After the death of his daughter, not much mattered. Just Melly. He knew that deep down, there was a part of her that hated him for forcing her into this season. He had put her coming out off for as long as possible. His wife had wanted her to come out when she was sixteen, but he had wanted her to remain a child for as long as possible. She had lost so much of her innocence when her parents had died. He had wanted her to be able to keep as much of that innocence and wonder for as long as possible. After his wife had died, Melly had been forced to step into her shoes. Miracle of miracles, after two years of suffering through the worst and the best that society had to offer, she had somehow managed to keep her wonder and innocence.

Delaney downed the last bit of brandy in his glass and grabbed a full one off of a passing waiter's tray. He couldn't keep her safe forever, though. As he grew older he was faced with this more directly. He was an old man and he needed to know that after he was gone, she would be protected. The only way he could see to do that was to find her a suitable match. The problem was he couldn't think of any goddamn man on this planet that was worthy of his Amelia. He chugged his brandy and went back to look for any sort of potential for his Melly.

Amelia continued to weave her way through the crowd until she had gotten to where she wanted to be. The center of the ballroom. She stopped once she'd gotten there and smiled. The couples continued to dance around her. This had been her favorite place to be; at the center of things without being seen. Amelia had gone most of her life only being noticed when it benefited others to do so. The advantage to this, Amelia had found, was that no one actually cared what she did as long as she did it quietly. To them she was just a poor orphan girl who had been raised by her grandparents. She would make an amiable match and continue to live out her life in quiet anonymity and no one would ever hear anything scandalous about her. There had already been one scandal in their family and one scandal was all any self-respecting peerage family was allowed. Everyone knew that.

Amelia chuckled to herself. These people had no idea what she was planning. Tonight was going to be quite the sup-

"Excuse me, but may I ask what you are doing standing here, alone, in the middle of the ballroom floor just as a waltz is beginning?"

Amelia whirled around and came face to face with her interloper.

And blinked. Simply put, he was gorgeous. His eyes were the warmest shade of molten amber she had ever seen. She had to almost crane her neck to be able to see them. His hair was black and a little longer than was fashionable. He had a curl in that hung down in the middle of his forehead that she could only describe as rogueish. His skin was of a tan complexion that had probably caused him all sorts of trouble with 'polite' society. Suddenly, it clicked. She knew who this was.

"You're Devon Greyson." She observed.


	4. Innocent Flirtations

**Author's Note- Hello everyone! I am still alive and have survived another school year! Woo! One step closer to being done. It also means that I will be (hopefully) updating more frequently. At least, that's my goal. I make no promises, but I will really try. The disclaimer is the same, I don't own the Tarzan story, just my OCs. Thank you to everyone has stuck with me so far. Enjoy this new chapter!**

The man in front of her raised an eyebrow, "Guilty as charged."

The beginning chords of a waltz lilted through the ballroom. Greyson brought Amelia in gently and effortlessly pulled them both into the first steps.

"What do you think you are doing?" Amelia asked, calmly.

"Waltzing with you."

"It is unseemly for an unmarried woman to waltz with a man with whom she has no acquaintance," explained Amelia. Not that she expected him to listen. Rogues never listened.

"Well, I just assumed that since you knew my name we must have become acquainted at one point or another," he reasoned.

Amelia rolled her eyes, "The only thing about you that I am acquainted with are your infamous exploits."

It was meant to be a haughty set-down, but it was lessened by the fact that her feet decided that was when they were going to trip over themselves. Amelia stumbled and would have fallen if Greyson hadn't felt the mistake and tightened his grip on her bringing her even closer to him.

He raised one jet black eyebrow, but said nothing. Well, at least he had some sense of decorum. Amelia thanked whatever god was listening for that. The last thing she wanted to discuss was her lack of grace on the ballroom floor.

"So, might I inquire as to who I just saved from humiliation in front of hundreds on the dance floor?"

Apparently, her thanks had come to quick. It took a moment for Amelia to register what he had said past the insult.

"You don't know who I am?" She looked up from their feet to look at him, aghast.

"When I interrupted your introspection, I saw only a beautiful woman who had managed to circle her way to the center of the dance floor completely unnoticed. It didn't matter to me who that girl was, I only knew that I had to dance with you. I didn't know at the time that you didn't dance," he ended with a cheeky little grin that should have infuriated her. It didn't.

"So," he continued, "Will you tell me the name of the twirling chameleon?"

Amelia looked up at him. There was something about the way he had spoken to her, the way he had noticed her when no one else had, the way he cut to the quick of things without the normal flowery language of any rogue she had ever spoken with that made her think this man was just as much a chameleon as she was. She looked into his amber eyes and tried to see past the façade to the man behind it.

The music stopped and the spell was broken. Amelia realized that she was still in Greyson's arms. She quickly stepped away from him and curtsied. He bowed. As she was coming back up, their eyes met.

"Well?" he questioned.

Amelia held his gaze, saw the mischief in his eyes. She smiled and decided to meet his mischief with her own.

"What are names to rogues like you? For now, you may call me Chameleon."

She grinned up at him and spun around to make her exit, quickly disappearing into the crowd of dancers.

From across the ballroom, Archibald Delaney watched this unfold with a twinkle in his eyes. It seemed his young friend had finally met his match in his granddaughter. They would be good for each other. As long as both could overcome their pride. Delaney grinned. Things were about to get interesting.

Greyson watched the little chameleon flounce across the ballroom, weaving her way between couples. Her red curls bounced against her neck in an utterly beguiling way. He found himself entranced for a moment by those damn curls. He shook his head to expel these thoughts. He had the uneasy feeling that his life was about to get even more difficult.

Amelia made her way through the sea of couples. What had she been thinking? She flirted with a rogue. A rogue who could destroy months of planning with one dance. She had made a promise to herself and no mere man was going to keep her from staying true to that promise. Oh, but was he just a mere man? With those eyes and that hair, his Indian heritage was on full display. It had been a great scandal when his father had met, married, and had a child with a woman he had met while stationed in an Indian province.

She had almost made it to the double doors that would take her away from the man who could ruin everything and into the cleansing cold of the nighttime air when she was intercepted by the one woman she had been trying to avoid all evening. Lady Evelyn Burke, the mother of Pamela Burke, a friend of Amelia's. As much as Amelia claimed friendship to Pamela, the opposite was true for Lady Burke. They both hated each other in the only way woman of the _ton_ could hate, silently.

"Little Melly, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. I had started to think that you had abandoned your own party in disgrace. We all remember what happened last month at Lady Jersey's ball," the malicious woman barbed.

Amelia cringed, she was never going to live that down. She had been asked to dance by Lord Blake's eldest son, Richard. Everything had been going fine until Amelia had stepped on her train and taken both herself and Richard down. That would have been embarrassing enough, unfortunately they had been dancing near the refreshment table and the punch bowl had broken their fall. The shattering of the glass had ensured that everyone witnessed her humiliation. She had disappeared into the gardens as soon as she could after that.

Coming back to the present, Amelia replied, "No, Lady Burke, merely trying to escape the aroma of snubbed feelings and empty promises that permeates any room in which the marriage mart is active in."

"Oh come now, little Melly, surely you do us a disservice. We are merely trying to ensure our daughters' futures. Your grandfather does you no good in allowing you to run as free as he has. No good may come of that."

"Maybe not, Lady Burke, but the gift my grandfather gives me in my freedom is worth a hundred well-made loveless matches. Goodnight, Lady Burke."

With that, Amelia spun away and quietly let herself outside.

The fresh, clean, cold air hit her face and everything was clear again. Tonight would be the night. Emmaline would be upstairs packing even as she walked towards her rose garden. The roses had been her mother's prized possession and had become hers in recent years. They allowed her to be outside in the fresh air, but still maintain that ever present air of propriety.

As she walked through them, she let her finger tips brush the petals.

For years her life had been dictated to her, by her grandmamma, her grandpapa, all of the mommas who thought they knew what was best for her, but no more. Tonight she would take control of her life. She would see the world.

Amelia slipped a hand into the hidden pocket in her dress to touch the letter it concealed.

If she was lucky, she would find the answers she seeked.


	5. Not an update!

Hi everyone! *insert nervous laughter here* Sooooo, long time, no write. I am sooooooooo sorry! :( I did NOT mean to abandon this story for so long. School got really overwhelming and I need to take a step back from my writing so I could finish strong. Which, you will all be glad to know, I have. I just graduated from nursing school this past weekend annnnnd I have a job set up for as soon as I pass the NCLEX. One more big test and I am done with school for a very long time. So, YAY for me! But, y'all don't care about that, you care about the story. I DO plan on finishing both of the stories I currently have going and I have plans for a Star Wars story and possibly some Avengers fics, so be on the lookout for those. Now, I'd better go finish writing those chapters I promised you. xoxo


	6. Free at Last

Author's Note- **Hey everybody! Told ya I'd get this up. It feels good to be able to write again. I am sooooooooooooo sorry it took me so long. My explanation is in the post before this, so I won't go into detail, but thank you for sticking around! I hope you guys enjoy this and it was worth the wait. I promise I will be continuing this story. Anyways, enjoy and tell me what you think by reviewing!**

Amelia took a deep, fortifying breath of the night air, trying to muster her courage. She would need every ounce of it for what she was going to do next. Her fingers still clasped the letter from Lord and Lady Greyson in her pocket. There was a reason for what she was doing. She began to make her way back through the rose garden and towards the patio and the double doors that would lead her back into the ballroom and the party that was continuing on without its guest of honor.

From the shadows, Devon Greyson watched the little chameleon touch every rose that she passed on her back to the party. Her fingertips cherished their petals like they meant a great deal to her. He wondered why that was so.

As she reached the steps the little chameleon twirled around as if she could sense someone watching her. Devon was sure he couldn't be seen where he was and kept watching. He had the vague sense that this could be construed as creepy, but was only intent on trying to discover more about this woman who had so easily and quickly entranced him. That didn't happen and it irked Devon. That, and he knew she was about to do something scandalous and he wanted to be sure he was there when it happened.

Amelia's heart raced as she turned around and continued to climb the stairs. She was sure someone else was out there. Whoever it was didn't seem to want to make a fuss. For that she was thankful. There would be enough fuss made tonight. With that thought she almost had to run to the edge to empty her stomach, but she managed to hold it in. Good lord¸ she thought, if this is how I react before I even make the announcement how am I going to actually go through with this? She was, in point of fact, a coward, more than she would like to admit to herself, but she knew she needed to do this. It was the only way that she would ever be free and freedom was what she craved right now more than anything. With that thought she opened the doors and slipped inside.

Greyson gave her a moment and followed her in. There was no way he was going to miss whatever this little minx had up her sleeve.

Amelia wove her way around the dance floor until she got to where she wanted to be, the bottom of the stairs. She snatched a glass of champagne off of a tray from a circulating waiter, chugged it, and dropped on the tray of the next waiter she passed.

When she got to the stairs, she looked out at all of the couples dancing gracefully across the floors that she had learned to crawl on, walk on, dance on. The floors that belonged to the house that her parents had lived in, that she had been born in, that had been in her father's family for generations and, lord willing, she would be able to convince the government to let her keep as she was the sole living heir. The last Clayton of Greystoke Manor. She quietly and deliberately made eye contact with her grandpapa from across the ballroom and smiled a gentle, apologetic smile before she turned and deliberately and in a way that ensured by the time she reached her destination, half way up the stair, the entire collection of guests were looking at her.

From across the way her grandpapa, Delaney, muttered to himself, "What are you up to Melly?"

Amelia took a deep breath, touched her cameo necklace and began.

"Ladies and gentleman," she said, "Firstly, I would like to thank each and every one of you for attending." She made a point of looking at Lady Burke. "As most of you now, I am the daughter of the late Lord and Lady Greystoke, Amelia Clayton." Here, she made a point of finding Devon Greyson in the crowd and winked at him. The champagne was making her brave. She had the passing thought that she was an absolute lightweight and she chuckled before continuing.

Greyson shook his head from across the room. He should have known it would be Delaney's granddaughter that would be the first girl that sparked his interest. Damn. He looked over at the old goat to see if he had noticed. Based on the cheeky grin on his face, he had noticed more than his granddaughter's subtle jibe to him. Double Damn.

"Tonight, by society's rules, marks the first night of my womanhood and my debut onto the marriage mart."

The crowd began to mumble at this. Everyone knew it existed, but no one dared actually speak of it. Even Greyson lifted his eyebrows at that, impressed by her gumption.

"However, that will not be the case with me. I will not be joining that horde of anxious debutantes, eager for any sort of attention as long as it is within the bounds of propriety. No, I will be embarking on a different journey."

Across the room, Emmaline was waving her handkerchief, signaling that everything was in order and ready to go. Time to wrap this up, Amelia thought.

"Tonight, I will be doing something that is far outside the bonds of this society. I, a single woman, am embarking on a journey across the world. To travel, meet new people, experience the world. I refuse to be held down by silly rules put in place by old goats who are afraid of a woman who can think for herself." With that, Amelia did a most unladylike thing. She hiked up her skirt, mounted the bannister side-saddle style and, for the first time since before her parents had died, she slid down the bannister of the stairwell. When she landed everyone around her scurried back, forming a semi-circle around her.

As she looked up at everyone, she smiled and made her way across the room to Emmaline where she grabbed the offered hat and pinned it to her head. Amelia, however, was not done. She had one last thing to say to the crowd.

"Again, thank you, ladies and gentleman. Have a wonderful evening, enjoy the food and drink. If I am at all lucky, I shall never see any of you again." With that, she blew a kiss to the crowd and flounced out the door, down the front steps, and into the waiting and already packed coach. Finally, she was free.

Inside, the guests were quiet for all of two seconds before the rumors and gossip started flying at lightning speed. Greyson, shocked, but not entirely surprised, made his way over to his friend, Delaney. The older gentleman had a look on his face that took a moment for Greyson to place and when he did, he was more than a little surprised, for what was on his friends face was the fiercest look of pride he had ever seen.

"Did you expect this than, Delaney?" Greyson asked.

Delaney chuckled, "Not that exactly, but something like it. I could see it in her, her mother was the same way. Refused to be tied down and willing to go to drastic measures to achieve that goal, even ruining her reputation. Ah, well," Delaney sighed with a sad smile on his face. He covertly gave Wilson the signal to start clearing people out, "She will be back. One day. She will travel the world and find out who she is without having to worry about the ton or me or anything getting in her way. But she is just one girl and a maid. I am afraid she has not thought this as far through as she may have." At this he turned to Greyson. "Follow her for me? Keep her safe. From a distance of course, she needs to feel like she is doing this on her own, but I cannot bear to lose her like I did her mother."

Greyson nodded solemnly, "Of course I will. You have my word."

With that, he walked out the front door, Wilson handed him his hat and coat on the way out, and followed the girl that he had a feeling would change his life forever.


	7. A New Beginning

**Yeah. I know. This update is very late. I'm sorry. Life got crazy after graduation what with the new job and having to plan my wedding (just 11 days to go and my toes couldn't be toastier!). Anyways, I struggled with this chapter a little. Wasn't quite sure how I wanted to take the story, but I think I figured it out in a way I'm happy with and I hope you will be to! Sooooo I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave reviews, I love reading them! Onwad!**

Amelia's heart was racing a million miles a minute as the coach carried her and Emmaline through the streets of London to the docks to catch the boat that would take Amelia on the first leg of her grand adventure. Though it was racing faster than her grandfather's prized stallion, it was racing free for the first time since her parents had died. She brushed the cameo at her neck and smiled at the thought of her mother. She would have been horrified, but secretly proud of what her Mel had done for herself tonight.

Amelia looked out the window; it was raining. Somewhere Amelia had heard that rain was a good sign. That it meant the slate was washed clean and there was to be a new beginning. Well, she certainly hoped so. She had plans that went beyond just seeing the world, but actually taking control of her parent's property in India and bringing it back to what it had been. She'd been reading the reports that her grandfather had been getting the last couple of years and they were not happy ones. Amelia was sure that with a little time and effort she could breathe new life into the failing plantation. After all, she was more than just a debutante. She'd been running her grandfather's household for years, and unlike most ladies she knew, she did more than just write up the menus. She managed the household funds, the paying of the staff, the budget that Cook was allowed was redone every two weeks based on the menu itself, what was in season, and how well her grandfather's stocks were doing. Amelia was constantly nagging Johnson, her grandfather's steward, for the latest numbers and as much as Johnson put on a show about the unseemliness of women dealing with numbers, Amelia knew he was secretly proud of her for keeping everyone in check.

The coach came to halt with a slight lurch that knocked Amelia out of her daydreaming and back into reality. The humid orchards of India would have to wait. First, she had to get through the dreary wet docks of London's West side. Her and Emmaline's tickets were already bought and paid for a week ahead of time and there was no hitch getting them and their luggage on the boat. Although, a little grumbling could be heard from the crew about the amount of baggage the two ladies had brought. Emmaline had insisted it was necessary.

As they made their way to the top of the gang plank and the deck of the ship they were greeted by a man with a well-trimmed black beard that had been shot through with steely grey, his head was covered with a cap, but you could see that it was also black with some grey at the temples. His eyes were hard and, Amelia imagined, brown, though they appeared black in the twilight.

He squinted at her and wrinkles appeared around the corners of his eyes.

"Welcome aboard _The Castilian_ , Lady Amelia. I am her captain, William Blake. She's a fine ship and she'll get us where were going. There will be rules however and I expect them to be followed to the letter." He gave her a stern look before continuing. "The first and most important rule, do as I say and if I am not able to say it you will do as my first mate, Jameson, says. Second, I request that you and your lady retire to your cabin directly after supper."

"One hour." Amelia stated, interrupting him.

Blake jerked his head, eyes round, infuriated that he had been interrupted by this little girl who was playing at things she did not understand. "What was the first rule, my lady?"

"To do as you say, Captain, but I have been doing as everyone says all my life. The whole point of this expedition is to do as I say for once in my life," Amelia explained.

The Captain rebutted, "The request is so as to keep you from distracting my crew and possibly acquiring attention that your ladyship and her maid will not be wanting."

"I understand the safety reasoning behind the request Captain, but I have never been anywhere but here and therefore have never sailed before. I can only assume that I will have what you sailors refer to as a 'landlubbers stomach' and by my way of thinking, a few minutes of fresh air after a meal would go a long ways in making sure no one has to mop up anymore mess than is necessary. That, and I would like to be able to spend a few minutes admiring the sea. This will be my very first adventure, Captain, and I would like to make the most of it."

Blake's eyes softened as he saw in her his own wild hearted child, Sarah Ann, who was lost to him far too soon. "Very well. One hour after supper up on deck I will grant you. Unless the weather is bad, then its straight to your cabin, understand?" He tried to make the last sentence sound harsher and more firm. And utterly failed.

Amelia smiled, "Thank you for understanding, Captain Blake. Now, where is our cabin?"

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you." Blake said before turning on his heel and leading them across the deck.

Amelia gazed at everything in awe as she walked. She'd never realized just how tall the masts on a ship were. She'd seen them from a distance, but this was something else entirely. And the way the ship moved under her feet was an utterly disconcerting feeling. She had the sneaking suspicion that movement would be a problem.

The captain went down a set of stairs and led them through a short passageway. He pointed out the galley, where meals would be served, and told them each meal would be signaled with the ringing of a bell and that they would dine with him as often as he was available.

Finally, he stopped just a short ways past the galley.

"This will be your cabin," he said opening the door for them, "the sheets on the bed are fresh. Make sure everything is tied down else it'll go flying if we hit hard seas. Should you be needing anything mine is the cabin next to yours. I'll leave you ladies to get settled. We'll be shoving off any minute now." With that he doffed his hat and left them to their own devices.

Emmaline, who had been more quiet than usual, spoke up, "Well he seems nice, if a little rough around the edges."

Amelia through herself backwards landing on the bed with a little puff, feeling perfectly exhilarated, "He's exactly how I imagined a sea captain to be."

With that the two ladies got to work securing their trunks and pulling out their nightgowns, preparing themselves for bed.

Amelia's last thoughts before she drifted off to sleep were, _soon I will be able to see for myself if what the Greysons say is true._

Unbeknownst to either of the ladies, the captain was currently on deck dealing with a man who, on the surface exuded a sense of entitlement and wealth. The captain hated dealing with men like that. However, as the Captain listened to the man talk and heard his story he realized that this was not the usual entitled man. This man was different. So, the man was allowed aboard, but the only free space was a bunk below deck with the rest of the crew. The man accepted without hesitation and it was that what told the captain all he needed to know of the man. With a nod at his first mate, the order was given to push off and within in minutes _The Castilian_ was out to sea and headed for Boma, Africa.


End file.
